


Everything Lost

by ParadiseAvenger



Series: Everything [2]
Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Lemon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 22:19:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1915980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParadiseAvenger/pseuds/ParadiseAvenger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of Drago Bludvist, Berk is broken. Astrid does her best to hold everything together. Then, she does everything she can to hold Hiccup together.</p><p>Spoilers for How to Train Your Dragon 2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything Lost

**SPOILERS for HTTYD 2!** (Seriously! Huge spoilers—back away now if you haven’t seen the movie and don’t want it to be spoiled.)

Originally, my story ‘Everything Else’ was going to be about Stoick’s death, but I changed it at the last second. At the urging of TaleWeaver, I’m going to write about it anyway. There’s a spoiler warning in the summary so if you clicked on this and ruined it for yourself anyway, that’s your fault…

XXX

Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third had no words to describe what it was like to learn that his mother, Valka, was alive. He barely had the words to tell Astrid Hofferson, his longtime friend and lover. He had mainly explained with the gestures of his long-fingered hands, narrow shoulders, and joyous expression. His mother was alive, she loved dragons just like he did, and she was coming home for the first time in twenty years. He couldn’t express how happy he was.

It was only days later that Hiccup once again found himself without the words he needed. Except this time, the words he had not been able to summon to describe his mother’s return were the exact opposite of what he needed now. He had no words to describe the death of his father, Stoick the Vast. Astrid tried to tell him about a distant temple with a poem called ‘Loss,’ and the three words there, but the poet had scratched them out. Loss could not be described with words. It could only be felt. (1)

In a haze of stinging ice and blizzards that usually plagued Berk this time of year, things passed in a fog. 

Immediately after the battle with Drago’s Alpha Bewilderbeast, Hiccup had been sworn in as the new chief. Though the village needed a chief to solve day-to-day problems, they were just as broken by Stoick’s death as Hiccup was. They weren’t ready to accept Hiccup yet, even though they loved him. They needed to mourn Stoick first—to hold their dragons and their children close, to sharpen weapons and roast several boar, and to cry to Valhalla. 

Hiccup was all right with that. 

His father had been the kind of man who deserved to be mourned. He could only hope that his father’s name was being sung with love and fury by the most beautiful Valkyries, that the hymn echoed through all of Valhalla, and that even a single word of it reached his ears on Berk so that he would know Stoick had taken his rightful place at the Table of Kings. When something happened that direly needed a chief’s attention, Gobber and Astrid went together to help. Sometimes, Hiccup went with them. Sometimes, he just couldn’t.

It all felt like a very bad dream that Hiccup couldn’t wake up from.

This wasn’t like the times before where bad things had happened, where battles had waged, where wars had started and ended overnight. Hiccup wasn’t able to come home to Stoick the Vast, to a village that he had managed to protect, to good friends and family with Toothless at his side. This time hadn’t been like the other times. 

This wasn’t like the fights with Alvin the Terrible.

This wasn’t like the battles against Dagur the Deranged.

Drago Bludvist was stronger than both of them. He was meaner, crueler, fiercer, more bitter, and more shattered. Hiccup was still too kind, a peacemaker rather than a warrior, a friend instead of an enemy. He had been certain that Toothless would never hurt him, but the will of the Alpha was too strong even for the bond between them. Stoick, torn by the last thread of distrust for dragons or maybe moved by knowledge of Drago that only he held, had thrown himself into the fray. 

It had only taken one plasma blast. 

That was the strength of a Night Fury. 

In the silence that followed, Valka had bent over Stoick, helping Hiccup push aside icy rubble, and pressed her head to his chest. For a moment, Hiccup’s eyes were still bright with hope. Then, Valka shook her head and closed her eyes before the tears could escape. 

Meaningless… It was all meaningless…

Stoick the Vast was dead.

Now, Astrid did her best to support Hiccup with her hands and lips, words and battle axe, but she couldn’t even begin to understand how Hiccup must have been feeling. Not only was his father gone, but Toothless—his best and first friend, his precious dragon—was the blade that had cut away Stoick’s life. 

She still couldn’t understand how Hiccup had managed to reach Toothless through the Alpha’s horrible influence. She had been trying to call back Stormfly the entire time to no avail. The Nadder hadn’t even looked her way until after Toothless had not only broken free from the Alpha’s control, but began to fight the influence and instinct that had ruled dragons for thousands of years. That was how deeply Toothless loved Hiccup. They had a bond that transcended even the one she had with Hiccup.

It was midday when a light knock on the door pulled Astrid Hofferson from her thoughts.

With a start, she put aside her plate of roasted chicken and hurried to the door. She hoped that Hiccup had finally returned since he left sometime the night before while she slept beside him, but there wasn’t much reason for him to knock on the door of his own house. (Astrid had moved in with him soon after the battle with Drago, hoping that she could fill some of the void left behind by Stoick, but that was like trying to seal a crack in a dam with cloth.)

Fishlegs was standing outside in the snow with Meatlug slumped behind him. Fishlegs carried a shoulder-satchel with the Book of Dragons inside it. He and Valka had been working together closely over the past two weeks, filling the half-empty pages with endless knowledge as if being busy would fill the emptiness of the deceased chief. Fishlegs should have been happy to have so much new dragon knowledge at his fingertips, but Stoick’s death was like the shadow of his statue, cast darkly over the village and all its inhabitants. 

“Fishlegs?” Astrid asked. “What’s up?”

“Is Hiccup here?” Fishlegs asked and reached out to put his big hand on Meatlug’s nose. Being the most sensitive of the Dragon Riders, they both looked tired and drawn. They looked like Hiccup did, walking around with shadows beneath their eyes and ash in their mouths.

Astrid tucked back a lock of her blonde fringe. “You know he isn’t,” she murmured.

Fishlegs nodded almost guiltily. “I just saw him flying out over the ocean,” he admitted. “I tried to catch up to him, but Night Furies are the fastest species of dragon and Meatlug is… Sorry, girl, but it’s true. We’re not the fastest, especially not compared to Hiccup.”

Astrid let her breath out in a soft rush. “I know, Fishlegs,” she said softly. “It’s been a really rough week for Hiccup.”

Fishlegs nodded in understanding and worried his fingers against each other. “It’s just that…” he muttered nervously, “I’m not supposed tell you, but… Snotlout and the twins are planning on catching Hiccup this afternoon. They want to take him drinking and make him feel better—by force.”

Astrid sighed harshly and tugged ruthlessly on her long braid. “Those idiots,” she snapped.

Fishlegs shied away. “I tried to talk them out of it, but…”

“It’s not your fault, Fishlegs,” Astrid consoled him. “I’ll deal with them. If you see Hiccup, tell him to come home. If he’s not home by nightfall, I’m going to go get him anyway. He needs to sleep.”

Fishlegs nodded in agreement, stroked his hand over Meatlug’s ears, and mounted up. “Valka and I are still working on the Book of Dragons. We’ll be in the cove off Raven Point if you need us,” he told Astrid.

She nodded gratefully. Gobber, Valka, and Fishlegs had been helping her and Hiccup as much as they possibly could. Chiefing was beginning to feel more like a team effort rather than something that rested solely on any one person’s shoulders. Astrid had never realized just how much Stoick the Vast had done for them until he was gone. She wished she could thank him.

“Astrid?” Fishlegs asked softly, interrupting her thoughts.

Her head jerked up and Astrid realized she had begun to cry. Quickly, she dried her cheeks and forced a firm smile. “I’m fine, Fishlegs,” she said. “I’ll get you if I need anything. You know I will.”

Nodding with sadness in his deep eyes, Fishlegs patted Meatlug and the two of them flew off towards Raven Point. 

Astrid took another moment to pull herself together, splashing some cold water on her burning red eyes, before she went into the village to stop the Thorston twins’ and Snotlout’s latest horrible plan. She tried to understand how everyone must have been feeling. The death of the chief was a terrible thing, but the village was beginning to move forward again. The twins and Snotlout were about as emotionally deep as tide pools. They were ready for Hiccup to get over it and become their chief fulltime. While they were Hiccup’s close friends, they were tired of being called on to help out at all hours of the day or night if something went wrong. 

For a moment, Astrid entertained the idea of trying to explain how Hiccup must have been feeling to them. His dragon, under the control of a terrible Alpha and even more horrible man, had struck down the father he loved. How raw and deep was that wound? How many pieces had Hiccup’s heart been broken into? But she knew they wouldn’t understand. Instead, she grabbed her axe, slung it over her shoulder, and prepared herself for a skirmish to settle them down. 

As she walked to the Great Hall where they were surely formulating their plan, she turned her eyes to the sky and sought out the familiar shapes of the dragons that made Berk their home. Less dragons had been flying lately. They were sensitive creatures that picked up on the emotions of humans. With everyone so depressed, Berk was quiet and still. Even the Terrible Terrors were slinking through the snow, chirping sadly as she passed.

Stoick’s Rumblehorn dragon, Skullcrusher, was lying sadly in a snowdrift, breathing rings of steam. Though Eret, son of Eret, had been taking the dragon out flying and trying to pull the beast from his depression, the transition from one rider to another was nearly as slow as the healing of Hiccup’s potent grief. 

Astrid forced her blue eyes forward, digging a little deeper for what remained of her strength. She tightened her hands around the well-worn handle of her axe. Though she tried not to think about who had given her this particular axe, the memory of Stoick smiling at her warmly as she and Hiccup told him about their newfound relationship little over a year ago rang through her heart like the chord of a half-forgotten melody.

In the Great Hall, it didn’t take Astrid long to convince the trio of idiots that the agony they would receive from her if they dared harass Hiccup would be the double the pain of being woken up in the middle of the night to help with chiefly duties. After a few minutes of arguing and a few more threats, the three of them admitted defeat and agreed not to try anything on pain of death. With a sigh, Astrid watched them go. By tomorrow, they would probably have another stupid plan to help Hiccup, but she would deal with that then.

For now, it was nearly dinnertime. There were dragons to feed and end-of-day squabbles to mend. Astrid left the Great Hall and moved through Berk with purpose. When she looked to the darkening sky, she didn’t see Hiccup anywhere. The cold sea breeze blew through her slender body, prying a shiver from her.

A few hours later, after dealing with Silent Sven’s latest hard-to-understand complaints, Astrid dragged herself back to the chief’s house. Valka’s Stormcutter dragon, Cloudjumper, was perched on the roof, looking down at Astrid with a tilted head that spoke of his great intelligence. The dragon chortled a soft greeting as Astrid opened the door. Valka was sitting before the hearth inside. The ingredients for supper were spread out on the table behind her, but she hadn’t tried to cook anything. Hiccup was thin enough lately without adding his mother’s terrible cooking to the mix.

“Astrid,” Valka greeted nervously. “I hope you don’t mind that I—”

“It’s fine, Valka,” Astrid interrupted gently. “I’ve told you already. This is—was—Stoick’s house and you’re Hiccup’s mother. You’re welcome here whenever you wish. You could sleep in Stoick’s room. It’s not as if I…” Astrid broke off and flushed, realizing that she had just admitted that she slept in Hiccup’s bed to his mother.

Valka tilted her head curiously, reminiscent of Cloudjumper’s earlier motion. She had been away from humans for twenty years and her memory of the proper customs was a little fuzzy. Certainly Stoick would have frowned on Astrid sleeping with Hiccup, but Stoick was gone and Hiccup was chief now.

Astrid cleared her throat. “I mean, you don’t have to sleep in the dragon stables.”

“I like it there,” Valka said lightly. “It’s what I’m used to.”

Astrid nodded and approached to begin cooking the ingredients that Valka had gathered.

“Is Hiccup here?” Valka asked, glancing up at the dark loft where Hiccup, Toothless, and Astrid slept.

Astrid shook her head. “Fishlegs said he saw him flying over the ocean a few hours ago.”

Valka glanced towards the shuttered window as if she would been able to see her son through the slats of wood. “Maybe I should go look for him,” she began.

Astrid shook her head again. “If he’s not home soon, I’ll go looking for him. He just needs some time to himself,” she explained. “Everything is under control.”

Valka nodded slowly, her green eyes still focused on the closed window. Cloudjumper could be heard moving across the roof, his talons scraping along the wooden shingles as he settled down comfortably. Astrid invited Valka to stay for dinner and the woman accepted. Half an hour later, Astrid saw Valka and Cloudjumper off to the dragon stables on the other side of the island. 

For a moment, she stood shivering in the cold night air. The shadow of the nearly-completed statue of Stoick the Vast threw its deep shadow over the village, as watchful and strong as the chiefs before him Someday, Hiccup would stand with those great chiefs, but Astrid couldn’t take those thoughts right now. Instead, she pulled on a heavy fur-lined cloak and made the short walk to where Stormfly still slept in the small shed near the Hofferson home. Amber light glowed at the edges of her parents’ window, but Astrid didn’t go inside. She saddled Stormfly, climbed onto the dragon’s back, and took to the sky.

Just for a few minutes, Astrid flew in lazy circles over Berk. She let herself relax, bonding with Stormfly in the way that she hadn’t had time to lately, and drifted through the deep star-filled night. Distantly, she could hear the soothing undulations of the ocean against the beach. Sheep bleated idly, yaks called, and birds were silent. It was too cold and snowy for crickets. Despite everything, Berk was serene and still. She took a deep breath to relieve her aching lungs before squeezing Stormfly’s flank with her thigh.

Taking the hint, the dragon banked to the left and flew slowly over the ocean. It took Astrid longer than expected to find Hiccup. When she finally did, she hadn’t been the one to find him at all. She had been looking forward, so focused on scanning the shoreline and forests for sign of her lover that his voice startled her terrible.

“Astrid, are you looking for me?” Hiccup asked softly from behind her.

Astrid turned in the saddle to glower at him. “Did you sneak up on me on purpose?” she snapped. “After everything I do for you?”

Hiccup had the decency to look ashamed. Then, he admitted, “I’ve been following you for a while now, but it didn’t look like you were going to notice me.”

With a sigh, Astrid put her hand along Stormfly’s neck so that the dragon dropped back to match Toothless’s languid pace. She glanced sidelong at Hiccup, studying him and taking in every new line and shadow on his face. Though the ashen marks of his newly-appointed chiefdom had long been washed off, the ash remained in Hiccup’s mouth. His eyes and lips were creased with sadness, shadows and redness circled his green eyes, and his face was thinner than it had been. The muscles he had worked so hard to earn were already diminishing, returning Hiccup to the freckled young boy she had first fallen in love with. He wasn’t wearing his leather flight suit and must have been cold, but he didn’t show it. 

“Are you ready to come home?” Astrid asked. “It’s cold. Aren’t you tired?” 

Hiccup turned his eyes away from her. “I… I can’t come home, Astrid…” he murmured. “I… I keep expecting to see my dad in the house. Every time I realize he’s gone forever… I just… I can’t.”

Astrid drew in a deep breath and pulled her cloak a little tighter around her shoulders. “Hiccup,” she began, but didn’t know what else to say. There were no words to comfort or console him. There was nothing she could say.

Hiccup glanced at her, his eyes glittering in the moonlight with unshed tears. 

Wordlessly, Astrid stretched out her hand for him. Hiccup hesitated, but then reached to clasp her fingers in his own. Holding her wrist securely, he drew Toothless a little closer to Stormfly and Astrid made the small leap between their dragons. She settled down in the saddle behind Hiccup, gestured for Stormfly to stay close in case she couldn’t convince Hiccup to come home, and then wrapped her arms around his narrow waist tightly. His skin was cold so she drew her thick cloak around both of them. 

They flew in silence for a long while, comforted by the presence of each other and their dragons. Astrid’s fingertips stroked down his chest and over his hips gently as she rested her cheek against his back. He smelled wonderful, like freshly-cut grass and leather and skin and something that was distinctly him. She hugged him a little tighter, her breath warm on his neck, and cuddled as close as she could. It was a relief to finally be with him after such a long day of worrying about him.

Hiccup shivered as Astrid’s touch moved down his chest and upwards again. All day, he had felt as cold outside as he did on the inside and that was almost a comfort. He could tell himself he was numb to what had happened to his father, to Toothless, to himself, but the warmth of Astrid’s cloak and slender body wasn’t easily ignored. Life came back into his skin and heart, tingling as it warmed him from the outside in. He allowed himself to feel, to break, to live.

Astrid pressed her lips to the back of his neck as he cried quietly, mourning the father he loved so much. The cold night wrapped around them, muffling the sounds and the pain. For a long time, Astrid just held him, stroking his chest and feeling his heartbeat. Tears rolled slowly down her cheeks, the pain he felt fueling her own grief for Stoick. Finally, his trembling shoulders stilled and he took a deep breath. She didn’t dry her eyes even though he turned to look at her and fresh tears welled in his eyes at the sight of hers.

Gently, Hiccup pulled her around his chest to settle in front of him with her legs wrapped over his hips so as not to foul the stirrup that directed Toothless’s flight. She pulled the cloak around him again, keeping him warm in that way that only she or Toothless could. He cupped her face gently in his hands and smoothed away her tears with the pads of his thumbs. When he kissed her, it was with absolute tenderness and Astrid melted into him.

He began to cry again, slow quiet tears that dripping off his chin and onto her. She kissed him through this wave of grief, touching and caressing every part of him that she could reach. She tangled her fingers through his hair and tugged gently on his two braids. Once again, Hiccup’s tears faded and he gave everything he had into kissing her. Gingerly, Astrid kissed the edge of his mouth, drawing him to lay kisses along her cheeks and the bridge of her nose.

With a soft sigh, his hands circled around her back and hugged her close against the plane of his chest. She felt his heart beating beneath her hands and pressed a kiss to the column of his throat. Then, in a display of balance, trust, and flexibility that only Hiccup was capable of, he leaned directly backwards to lie along the curve of Toothless’s back. Astrid yelped softly and rearranged her legs. Then, she lay comfortably against his chest.

For a long while, they flew like that. Toothless drifted through the sky, his wings beating quietly. Stormfly chirped softly beside them and Astrid opened her eyes to look into Hiccup’s exhausted face. Gently, she ran her fingers along the contour of his ribcage and over his sharp hipbone. He closed his hand over hers and intertwined their fingers, kissing the top of her head. Her body moved in time with his chest, lifted and lowered gently as he breathed.

“Hiccup,” she said finally. “Please, let’s go home…”

After a moment of hesitation, Hiccup nodded. He must have heard the fatigue in her voice and felt it in her body. He sat up and she felt the muscles of his stomach rippled beneath her hands. She started to move, to make the leap back to Stormfly, and the dragon chortled eagerly, but Hiccup tightened his arms around her.

She glanced into his face curiously.

“Stay with me,” he insisted.

Astrid couldn’t deny him. “Sorry, Stormfly,” she said gently. “Hiccup will take me back to his house. You go on home.”

Stormfly snorted and then dropped low over the ocean, snaring a fish with her talons. Apparently if she couldn’t have Astrid, a fish was a suitable replacement. Astrid resisted the urge to call down to her dragon and nestled against Hiccup’s chest as they flew home.

Toothless angled his wings and they landed with a soft crunch in the thick snow. The shadow of Stoick’s statue lay a few feet away and Skullcrusher remained in the drift where Astrid had seen him earlier in the day. Eret had left a pile of fish for the depressed dragon, but they hadn’t been touched. As she slid down from Toothless’s back, Astrid resisted the urge to check on Skullcrusher and instead focused on Hiccup. 

He dismounted and flipped his prosthetic from flight to walking mode. The metal foot didn’t get good traction on the snow and ice regardless of how many changes Hiccup made to it. Metal was no substitute for a boot with thick tread. Though Astrid didn’t try to help him walk through the snow, she remained close to him and was prepared to catch him should he falter. Toothless walked close on his other side, his green eyes shining with the same emotion she felt in her heart.

Without incident, they entered the chief’s house. Toothless shook some snow off in a fantastic arc and Astrid groaned as she hung up her fur-lined cloak. Astrid had left a plate of the leftovers she had eaten with Valka out on the table and the fire still burned warmly in the hearth. It was comfortable, it was clean, it was home.

Yet Hiccup’s eyes moved to the empty doorway that led to his father’s room and fresh tears welled in his eyes.

Though Astrid wanted him to eat something, she decided she could focus on that in the morning. Instead, she pressed her hand to the small of his back and guided him towards the stairs that led to his bedroom loft. Toothless followed them, his saddle clinking softly as he moved.

Astrid eased Hiccup down on the edge of the small bed that they shared and then turned to Toothless. It didn’t take long for her to remove his saddle and prosthetic tailfin and put both aside. Free of the saddle, Toothless shook himself and scratched his belly. Astrid mourned the fact that she had sent Stormfly home ahead of her and the dragon would have to wear the leather saddle all night. Designed by Hiccup and Gobber, the saddles were comfortable and padded for the dragon’s comfort, but Astrid still liked to take it off at night. Toothless cocked his head, warbled gently as if to assure her of something, and then padded downstairs to help himself to some fish that Hiccup kept in a basket just for Toothless.

Astrid turned her attention back to Hiccup. He was still sitting on the bed, breathing deeply and looking as if he wanted to pull himself back together. Astrid knew this was hard for him. Everything was hard for him since his father’s death, but he had to start coming home at night. 

Kindly, she came to kneel before him and gently took his amputated foot in her hands. The metal was icy and wet as she unattached it gingerly from the complicated mechanism that Hiccup had created. She untied the supple leather strings and eased the heavy metal prosthetic off. Then, she rolled up the leg of his pants to just above his knee where the soft leather sleeve that encased his stump and held the prosthesis on ended. She eased the long sleeve off and ran her hand lightly down the soft sock he wore around his stump in the winter. It was cold at the bottom from the metal and she rubbed his residual leg gently between her hands. (2)

Hiccup watched her quietly, his eyes glowing.

“Does it hurt?” she asked as she went to his fireplace and stacked up some logs over some smoldering embers. The fire returned to life easily, crackling and filling the room with light and heat.

“Just a little,” he admitted. “It’s winter, you know.”

“It’s always winter on Berk,” Astrid said.

A thin smile pulled Hiccup’s lips.

Astrid turned away from him and began to take off her armored shoulder pads. She set them aside with Hiccup’s foot, the metal clinking together merrily. She toed off her fur-lined boots and peeled her woven red shirt away from her skin. Then, she untied her spiked skirt, shimmied free, and kicked it aside. She watched Hiccup as she untied the end of her braid and freed her hair, running her fingers through the crimped tresses. Then, wearing only her tight blue leggings and chest binding, she came to sit beside Hiccup on his bed. 

Though his skin was warm and dry now, his clothes were stiff with sprays of seawater and time. Tugging lightly, she stripped him of his shirt and pants. Bare save for his underwear and the soft cloth over his stump, Hiccup turned and swathed her tightly in his arms. Astrid rested her cheek against his naked collarbone, breathing in the uninhibited scent of his skin. He was warm, so warm, almost like a dragon and she curled against him. 

Astrid wasn’t sure how long they lay together like that. 

Sometime later, Toothless came back up the stairs and came over to the small bed. He pressed his nose to Hiccup’s bare side and breathed out, snuffling warmly, until Hiccup put his hand on Toothless’s snout. Only then did the dragon go to the fire, breathe new life into it, and then move to lie in his bed in the corner of the room. He settled in, head folded on his paws.

Though Astrid was exhausted to the core, she couldn’t seem to fall asleep. Her mind was filled with too many thoughts that raced and chased each other like Terrible Terrors fighting over a fish. Instead, she lay comfortably against Hiccup in the narrow bed, trying to rest her body even if her mind showed no signs of slowing. She listened to the howl of the winter wind against the shutters, the soft rasp of Hiccup’s shallow breath, the deeper more measured exhalations of Toothless, and the crackle of the fire in the grate. 

She wasn’t sure if Hiccup was asleep yet, even though he was probably twice as drained as she was. He lay still against her side, his arms wrapped around her, but his breath seemed too smooth for him to be sleeping. Additionally, when he slept, he was usually plagued with phantom pain in his missing foot and tossed fairly relentlessly. 

Dreamily, she ran her fingertips down the plane of Hiccup’s bare chest and felt the softness of the fine auburn hairs that peppered his skin. She caressed a lingering scar along his side, the curve of his ribs, the crest of his strong pectoral, and ran just the tip of her fingernail over his nipple. 

Hiccup’s eyes fluttered open and he turned his head to look at her.

Astrid didn’t know what made her lift her chin to kiss him, but she suddenly couldn’t bear to be apart from him. She wanted to join with him, to feel every inch of his body, to feel his very heart beating against her. She kissed him deeply, her fingers curling against his bare chest. 

Hiccup hugged her close with a desperation he hadn’t possessed since the minutes following the battle with Drago and the Alpha. Astrid could still remember how he crushed her to his armored flight suit without a care for the breath that rushed from her lungs. Then, he had kissed her with more passion and more hunger than he had ever shown and he had done it right in front of their entire village. Surprised, Astrid hadn’t pushed him away, but it was unlike Hiccup to act that way. 

Hours later, once night had fallen and things had become as peaceful as they would ever be in the wake of such a terrible event, Hiccup came to her house. Even though her parents were right down the hall, he had stolen in through her window and slipped into bed with her. They had made love like dragons, tearing and gripping each other tight enough to leave bruises. It was the strongest Hiccup had ever been in bed and she realized now that he had been fueled by his grief.

Freshly mourning his father and tormented by Toothless’s forced betrayal, Hiccup was just happy she was alive and he had wanted to feel her. Astrid had accepted those parts of him as easily as she had accept his dragon, his metal leg, and his quirks, but she hadn’t truly understood what he was going through. Now, she felt what she imagined to be the same urge in her body. 

Hungrily, Astrid kissed him, but Hiccup’s lips remained gentle and soft against hers. She was reminded of how she had been when he had come to her, accepting and pliant in a way she never had been before. Now, it was Hiccup’s turn to accept that role. Astrid rolled on top of him, straddling his hips, and bent down to kiss him fully. 

Hiccup’s hands moved along her shoulders and down her back like butterflies flitting from flower to flower. Then, his fingers moved along the ridge of a scar over her spine and he suddenly gripped her tightly. Astrid gasped into his mouth, the newly-healed skin still sensitive and tender. Hiccup’s grip loosened, gentled, but he still held her tightly. 

She found the end of her breast binding and loosened it so that the loops of pale fabric began to unwind and fall across his chest. Hiccup untangled them, never breaking their kiss, and cupped her bare breasts eagerly. Astrid arched into his touch, her nipples stiff and sensitive against his rough palms. He pinched one lightly between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it.

Astrid tugged at his underwear and made quick work of pulling them down. Hiccup’s hands slid beneath her tight leggings, cupped her bottom, and then helped her wriggled free of her last remaining bit of clothing. Completely bare, they pressed eagerly against each other. Hiccup’s hardness rose to meet her like a fern seeking sunlight and Astrid ground down against him. She was already wet and aching.

“Hiccup,” she breathed out.

He kissed her, tongue dipping past the barrier of her lips and teeth to dance with hers. 

Then, he reached between their bodies and ignored his own erection in favor of cupping her heated core. She moaned into his mouth as his thumb caressed her oversensitive pearl. Hiccup slipped one finger inside her, stroking her moist walls and thrusting lightly. She rocked her hips to meet him, her tongue tangling around his and drawing it deeper into her mouth. Hiccup added a second finger, feeling her muscles greedily clutch at him as he thrust into her. 

“Please,” she whispered. “I can’t… I can’t wait anymore…”

Hiccup wasn’t far behind that desperate plea.

He withdrew his fingers, gripped his shaft, and lined it up with the opening of her body. She pushed down, taking him deep into her core in one smooth motion. They had coupled together so frequently in these past two weeks that it felt as if her body was shaping to accommodate his size and length. She moaned as he filled her to the brim, settling firmly against the mouth of her womb.

Hiccup cupped her hips and held her in place, breathing out raggedly as the heat and tightness of her body threatened to pull him over the edge from that sensation alone. Astrid began to tremble, her lips quivering as she bent to kiss him, and Hiccup couldn’t make her wait any longer. He lifted his hips and rocked into her. 

Her sheath clenched around him, rippling with delight, and he thrust into her deeply. She threw her head back, breasts catching the dim firelight. Hiccup cupped her ripe flesh and squeezed gently, rubbing his thumbs over her pert nipples. She clutched his wrists, little gasps of delight escaping her lips. 

They had come a long way since they had been awkward teens making love on Toothless’s back in the night sky or fumbling together whenever they were alone. Now, Hiccup knew exactly where she liked to be touched and precisely how to. With one hand, he could have brought her to the peak of bliss. 

He rolled her nipples between his fingers and then ran his nails gently down her ribs. Goosebumps broke out all over her skin as she ghosted his touch just long the small of her back. She bucked, trying to meet his methodical thrusts, but his fingers were too distracting, especially when they found her little pearl and brushed just so. 

She cried out what might have once been his name when she came and then slumped against his chest, her heart pounding. Hiccup continued to thrust into her as she rode the waves of her orgasm, milking it for all it was worth as her damp walls spasmed around him tightly. He came inside her, his member twitching with its release in time with his heartbeat. 

Astrid clenched her muscles around him, holding him inside as he softened. Sleepily, she lay against his chest, suddenly exhausted beyond all words. She became aware that Hiccup was fumbling for something, but she wasn’t sure what. She opened her eyes just a bit to look at the muscles in his shoulder as they moved.

“Toothless, bud,” Hiccup whispered.

Toothless grumbled, but Astrid heard the click of his claws on the hardwood floor.

“Give me the quilt,” Hiccup hissed.

Toothless caught the strewn blanket with his lips and put it in Hiccup’s outstretched hand. The warm heaviness of the woven blanket settled across her naked body and she shivered in delight, snuggling deeper into Hiccup’s arms as he tucked it around her bare shoulders.

“Thanks, bud,” Hiccup said quietly.

The dragon purred.

Then, the frame of the small bed creaked as something heavy settled around them. Astrid was aware of Toothless curling around them, his warm breath stirring her loose hair, but she didn’t mind. This wasn’t the first time she and Hiccup had slept naked beneath Toothless’s dark wings and it probably wouldn’t be the last. 

“Astrid?” Hiccup whispered suddenly.

“Hmm?” she answered sleepily.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I know I’ve been… putting a lot of my weight on you… making you do so much…”

Astrid hushed him, running her fingertips along his collarbone. “I’m happy to help you, Hiccup,” she whispered. “We all are. Losing Stoick was hard, so hard…”

Hiccup nodded, his chin brushing the top of her head, and she felt the tears well in his throat.

Astrid kissed the column of his neck, too tired to search for his mouth in the darkness. “I love you,” she said. 

Hiccup tensed for a moment and then tightened his arms around her naked back. It was rare that Astrid ever said those words without first being prompted by him. Astrid accepted him for all he was—she loved him as truly and deeply as a dragon. He held her close, cradled her, and the urge to cry slowly passed. 

“I love you too,” Hiccup whispered into her hair when he was certain his voice wouldn’t break. 

Astrid fell asleep soon after that. Her day had been long, filled with worries for Hiccup and Toothless, and wrought with chief-related problems. Another day that would be much the same waited for her tomorrow, but she hoped that tomorrow would be at least a little bit different. Tomorrow, she hoped Hiccup would be with her.

X X X

(1) “At the temple there is a poem called ‘Loss’ carved into the stone. It has three words, but the poet has scratched them out. You cannot read loss, only feel it.” ― Arthur Golden, Memoirs of a Geisha

(2) For anyone who might be interested, I did some research on prosthetics for writing this scene. (Even though I’m sure the prosthetics in Viking times were very different from the ones we have now.) This was the best video I found by AmputeeOT: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WuXdUAUOuoI

Questions, comments, concerns?

Please, **review!**


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